iNeed It
by NeoNails
Summary: Carly always said that every girl had a little black dress. Sam thought she was full of it, but she never said anything. Until she saw it." Slight Seddie.


I read this poem today accidentally in my English class, and I absolutely fell in love with it and _knew_ I had to include this in one of my fandoms... I just didn't know which one. XD So as I was copying down this poem, I suddenly was struck with this perfect image of a fandom I haven't visited in, like, a year.

Granted, I had no idea where I was going to go with this in the beginning, but that's the fun part, I guess. And this certainly is a very fun poem, if a little long. ;)

$4$

_I want a red dress  
__I want it flimsy and cheap  
__I want it too tight, I want to wear it  
__Until someone tears it off of me.  
__I want it sleeveless and backless,  
__This dress, so no one has to guess  
__What's underneath. I want to walk down  
__The street past Thrifty's and the hardware store  
__With all those keys glittering in the window  
__Past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old  
__Donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers  
__Slinging pigs from their truck and onto the dolly,  
__Hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.  
__I want to walk like I'm the only  
__Woman on earth and I can have my pick.  
__I want that red dress bad.  
__I want it to confirm  
__Your worst fears about me,  
__To show you how little I care about you  
__Or anything except what  
__I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment  
__From its hanger like I'm choosing a body  
__To carry me into this world, through  
__The birth-cries and the love-cries, too,  
__And I'll wear it like bones, like skin,  
__It'll be the goddamned  
__Dress they bury me in._

- "What Do Women Want?" by Kim Addonizio

**

* * *

**

Carly mentioned, once, that every girl has a little black dress.

At the time, Sam remembers vividly scoffing and chomping down on some Canadian bacon that Spencer got from… somewhere- she didn't know how he got it, she just appreciated life a little more when it was sitting there so happily in his fridge, waiting to be eaten.

Sam didn't own dresses. She never went to Homecoming, prom was a joke, so by senior year she didn't see any reason to scrounge up cash that could be used on significantly more useful things, like food or Pay-Per-View UFC fights. She did own a skirt or two, somewhere deep in the recesses of the crap-strewn mess that was her closet, but apparently- a.k.a. according to Carly- owning a skirt was not the same thing as owning this mythical dress.

As far as Sam was concerned, Carly was full of crap. Wearing some stupid dress didn't transform you into a different person- it was just you in an ugly dress. She never said it out loud, though, because God knew that would just make Carly's eyes go all huge and then she'd start yelling at her and, really, who needed all that hassle?

So Sam kept her opinion on dresses to herself. She let Carly drag her through the mall- even though there was often a lot of kicking and screaming involved- and she would try on all various sorts of outfits, modeling goofily for the mirror and her best friend.

She was pretty content with this plan. Usually she would throw her opinion in one of the dresses- mostly it was some variation of "Dude, it looks like that pink poofy shit threw up on you"- but she usually just spent her time sending Freddie insulting text messages or doodling on her arm. Anything was more interesting than _shopping_.

When she got really bored, she would sometimes wander the dress section. Carly liked to grab dresses in two or three different sizes- pssh, it was like she was the only person that knew she was a 'Small' in pretty much everything- so Sam was given the job of carting the dresses back. She was _supposed_ to put them back where they belonged, but usually they wound up in the children's section or by the bikinis or once in a while covering a mannequin's head.

What? She was _bored_.

Anyway, that was what she had been doing when she stumbled upon _it_. _It_ was not that mythical 'little black dress' that Carly was always obsessed with finding, nor one of those princess-y monstrosities that so many of her female classmates loved gushing about during prom season. It was just _different_, which was weird, because even with her limited knowledge into all things girly, she could tell _it_ was heartbreakingly simple in design.

But _it_ was perfect.

She didn't even check the size, or the price tag. She just took it off the rack, booking it to the dressing room before anyone could get a good sight of her and her prize. Just because _it_ was perfect didn't mean that she wanted me people to know about _it_. That might tarnish her reputation, and she put a lot of sweat and (others') blood into maintaining that.

She slid into the first empty dressing room that she saw, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her. She didn't want to run the chance of Carly spotting her as she stepped out in yet another sparkly cocktail thing.

Of course, the dress fit like a dream. It looked like it was meant for her, simple cotton fabric clinging to her frame and flaring out at the hips, creating a figure that Sam wasn't really aware she possessed until that moment, It was sleeveless, with a high round neck and a back that plunged almost indecently low. It was bright, fire engine red, and it was the first dress that she knew, without a doubt, that she _had_ to own.

She was transfixed with this perfect little dress she twisted the doorknob, walking out of the dressing room in a trance so she could see what she looked like in the lit floor-length mirror.

It was even _more_ perfect on her in the big mirror. She had curves, and they were actually visible for once, highlighted by the solid, vivacious color. Her skin was pale and clear by comparison, the slight flush in her cheeks accenting the color and standing starkly against her blue eyes and blonde hair, piled messily atop her head in a bun.

It looked like the dress was made for her.

She was so enraptured with her appearance- _finally_ she understood that almost euphoric high Carly got off of shopping- that she didn't hear the sound of oncoming footsteps, nor the chatter of loud, familiar voices, nor the almost anticlimactic gasp.

"_Sam?!_"

She heard _that_. Her head whipped around, eyes lighting on two very familiar faces. Carly. And Freddie.

Oh, God, she was _screwed_…

"Oh… my… _God_," Carly said reverently, doe eyes widened to an almost comical degree. "You look-"

Sam practically tripped off the stupid little platform the mirror was set on in her haste to get away from this seriously damning situation. She buried her hand in her hair, messing her already mussed bun as she tried to scrounge together a really quick, believable excuse for why she was standing there like an _idiot_ in this stupidly perfect dress. "Umm," she said, eyes flying from Carly's face to Freddie's and back again. "Listen-"

"_Amazing_," Carly gushed, stepping forward with this huge smile on her face. "Holy crap, that dress is _perfect_ for you." She let out this excited little squeal and tackled her, hopping up and down excitedly.

Freddie, for his part, was silent, staring at her with what looked like a mixture of shock and something else that she couldn't identify.

"Yeah, but it's not like I'm really going to _buy_ this," Sam protested weakly, stepping out of her best friend's vice grip and slapping on a fake smile. "I mean, I just threw this on 'cuz I got bored. It's not like I have a use for this thing, anyway."

"We'll buy it for you." Sam stared at Freddie, frozen once more. He stepped closer, and there was a weird darkness in his eyes that wasn't usually there and it kind of made her breath catch in her throat.

"I don't have anywhere to wear it," she said, but her voice was really quiet, and not at all confident and abrasive and Sam-like when Freddie was usually around.

"We'll find a place for you to wear it," Carly said confidently, flicking glossy dark hair over her shoulder. "That's not important. The important part is that you have _the_ most perfect dress _ever!_ Oh my God, I'm so excited for you I could just _scream!_" She let another (admittedly adorable) girlish squeal and danced in place for a few seconds.

Sam smiled, trying to hold back a laugh at her friend's crazy antics, and then let her eyes wander back to Freddie. There was something peculiar in his eyes, something that made her smile fade and a shiver slide down her spine in anticipation. "You really do look perfect," he said, voice low with just enough timbre to raise the hairs on the back on her neck and make her stomach do cartwheels. She was fairly confident Carly didn't hear him, but she did and at that moment, that was all that was important.

"Thanks," she whispered, a ghost of her trademark smirk appearing on her face. Something had shifted, something that she couldn't name but couldn't overlook, either, between her and Freddie. Something that was a direct cause of the effect of the dress. Something that gave her chills.

All thanks to that wonderfully perfect dress.

$4$

Sorry if it was a little OOC in some spots- I'm sure Sam doesn't hate dresses as much as I've written her, and I really wanted Carly to say more than jump around and squeal, but I'm afraid this was the only way it was going to play out in my head and I really don't want it to be any longer than necessary. XD

So… what do you think?


End file.
